


An Illicit Interview

by kangeiko



Category: Babylon 5, Dogma (1999)
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Original Characters - Freeform, my early fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1998-03-20
Updated: 2000-07-20
Packaged: 2017-10-11 08:08:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/110253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kangeiko/pseuds/kangeiko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gap filler between Marcus's death and Susan's return to life, set during <i>Endgame</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

I was reading the morning paper when they brought him in. Quite a busy night it had been, too; we had a serious rush to show for it today. Looked like tomorrow was going to be even worse, I was just thinking as I reached for my water glass, and looked up. And there he was. The bloody front page.

The glass was knocked off the table and shattered on the floor, slivers embedding themselves in the hard oak. Hearts were broken that night because of my carelessness, no doubt. But I wasn't even paying attention. Because he was there. Standing in line.

The people in front of him were squirming in place from nervousness, trying to gather the courage together to speak to him. I noticed that the people behind him seemed torn between muttering about the expected hold-up and basking in the knowledge that they would be able to overhear everything.

And me? Well, I was suddenly finding the gravel dusty and the gates tarnished and... suffice it to say, my paper was hidden swiftly and my attire was straightened. Well, okay, it was overkill, but-

It was him.

You know, I expected him to be taller. Or-or something. I don't know... maybe clad in white armour? Or perhaps wearing a crown of thorns? _Something._

Nothing. Nyet. Nada.

Dark hair falling in waves around a too-pale face, blue/green eyes set too deeply and ringed with purple bruises, a pouting red mouth hidden by a beard... a pleasant face by human standards, perhaps. Too wounded-looking for me to judge, really. He was too thin, though, anyone could see that - his fingers were long and slender, tapering up to a bruised wrist and sharp wrist bones. That's the one thing I learned from working here - the sharper the bones, the thinner the body. I mean, stuff like that comes in useful when you saw some of the getups worn here. At least he isn't swathed in silk from head to foot, but, bloody hell, he comes close. Look at that - they call that a uniform? Looks like a dress to me. How are you supposed to fight in that thing?

Ah, who am I to judge - I'm literally wearing a dress. No, sorry, a robe. Semantics.

Shit!

Curiosity killed the cat, they say... I stared too long, I guess, and he noticed. Looked up. And then it was like being hit by a ten-ton truck. I've no idea if he's this impassioned about everything - he'd be insane if he was, in my opinion - but, man, he looks sure enough to have actually done it...

What do you mean, done what!

Haven't you been following the news? What kind of interview is this? Do you even know what I'm talking about? The challenger! HIM!

Okay, let's recap for those not paying attention - no one, and I mean NO ONE, ever challenged a decision.

Until he walked in and just - did it. Easy as pie.

D'you know, that's why I was so shocked he looked so ordinary. I mean, I half expected him to be armed, but - no. Just those eyes of his.

He scared the living daylights out of me. Quite literally. I half wanted to run off and hide somewhere - but, hell, I wasn't going to miss the fireworks!

So, anyway, I waited along with everyone else, my wrists hurting from all the writing, waiting and waiting until it was his turn. It doesn't take as long as you think, you know. It's one of two decisions - up or down.

This one, though...

They wanted to send him back. Can you believe it? No one has been sent back. Some say they have, sure, but all that's happened is that they've been sent adjournments. The hearing hasn't actually taken place, and no judgement has been made - it's not a reprisal, it's an adjournment.

For him, there was talk of a conditional discharge.

Yeah, you heard right.

The boss man, the big G, the Almighty himself was considering a conditional discharge.

I never, ever, thought he stood a chance against Him, you know? Never in a million years. But then he pinioned me with that self-sacrificial gaze of his, and I'll be thrice-damned if I wasn't rooting for the underdog.

Anyway. Enough waffle. He hit the gravel down hard, and things got underway. I made myself comfortable.

"YES?"

Oh, I forgot. He speaks in capitals. Don't ask why.

"Sorry?"

Crisp, British, cultured... nice voice. Doesn't quite go with the face, but what do I know. He squinted at Him as if trying to see a form in all that light. Laughable, really. I mean, they all try it, and either give up real quick or go blind; I, myself, have looked and looked, and there's no form there.

"I SAID, YES?"

"Yes what?"

Oh God, he's lost his mind, be merciful. I swear, at that moment, I was petrified for him. He blinked those green eyes again, real lazy-like, and then - Christ on a crutch - yawned.

In His presence.

The man has a death wish. I was convinced of it then, and I still think it. I glanced at Him, half-awaiting the smiting. He has a thing for smiting infidels, you know. And, trust me, there isn't much worse a thing you can do than to not pay attention to him when's doing the judging thing. But - nothing. He was - what? Smiling? Smirking? I nearly passed out. Was He smiling?

"WHAT AM I GOING TO DO WITH YOU, YOU DISOBEDIENT WHELP? YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE."

"I'm not?" It's only then that he started to look around, taking note of his surroundings. It doesn't take a long time, seeing as there's not much there besides white light and a bloody long queue behind him. He looked puzzled for a moment, looking at the paper hidden behind my desk quizzically. Oh, yeah. Of course. My desk is there. Well, I can't write in mid-air, can I?

So, anyway, he's looking, and almost smiling as he realises that he's a hell of a lot closer to me than to Him. Which, okay, isn't saying much. But then - and I'm telling you the complete truth here - he turned back to Him. "And where is it that I am, exactly?"

Okay, I was convinced that He was smiling now. He loves this bit. "YOU'RE NOWHERE."

"Oh."

They fall for it every time, they do. This line of questioning will get them nothing and they know it, yet still they try. His brow was furrowed in concentration, his knuckles white as they clenched into fists. I was struck, again, by how thin he was. I mean, most of the ones passing through are pretty thin, but this one really has a monopoly on it. Looks like he's been drained. And they want to send him back like this? He wouldn't last another day.

Then again, you didn't see his eyes... Damnit, they sacred me. At least they were shut as he tried to remember, because I don't think I could have stood watching them change when he eventually did it. And it was obvious what he was thinking by that little twitch in his mouth. They're usually tight-lipped for a long time at this point, trying to decide which question to ask next. Invariably, the choice falls between, "Why am I here?" and "How did I get here?" They don't seem to understand that since they are nowhere, neither of those questions really matters.

The hair on the back of my neck prickled, then, because I knew what he was going to ask was going to scare me. It wasn't going to be one of those two; it would be too pat, too cut and dry, you know?

And it wasn't. I waited. And waited.

And then his eyes opened finally, and he seemed to be looking around again, drinking things in as if he was seeing them anew.

He remembered.

Silence.

Eventually, he asked his question. Everyone was so silent, waiting for this, it sounded kind of hollow in the echo. "It worked, then?"

It's not what I expected, I must confess. It's not what anyone - even Him, although I don't purport to know how His mind works - expected. There was a small delighted shiver rippling through the masses watching - they knew, then, that they were going to get a good show.

Vultures. Eager for their pound of flesh. But, then, what was I, with the pen clutched in my hand so tightly I thought it was going to snap? Semantics.

It think He knew what we were all thinking then. Hell, of course he knew. It was His job, right? But still, he savoured it. "YOU DARE ASK THAT? AFTER YOUR DISOBEDIENCE, YOU DARE ASK ME THAT?"

It was like thunder. It was thunder, rolling over us. My eardrums are still tingling. I can't stand hearing Him speak for any great length of time, and this one - well, it was a doozy, to say the least.

And the defendant - lanky, dark-haired, thin as a rake, looking like you could snap him with a breath - actually thought about it. Most would cower and beg forgiveness. He just stood there, thinking. Then, "yes," he said, and smiled.

You could have knocked me over with a feather.

"WHO ARE YOU?" He asked, a little surprised.

The defendant shivered, and so did I, I think. Bad memories, I guess. I watched that question being asked and got real angry for a while at the nerve of them. Then I forgot about it, like all the rest. I guess he hasn't, or maybe it was too recent for him, because he thought that one over, very carefully. "My name is Marcus Cole," he said at last, slowly. "Although I doubt that that name will be used by me here."

More silence at that. The answer sounds a little rehearsed, and I wondered if he'd been asked the question before. By the look in his eyes, I'd say he had. It's sad, I guess, that you'd have to think about this before you got here. Real sad. And scary, too, in a way. I wondered, then, who would have been so interested in our Mr Cole.

Now? Now I just try and forget about it all. Look, d'you want to hear the rest of this or not?

Okay, then.

So, Cole blinked lazily again - I think he was half-asleep, to tell you the truth - and thought some more. Everyone was waiting, but no one expected his next question.

"Who are you?"

Was my mouth open? My jaw aches a lot, so I guess it must have been. It feels like I've dislocated it. I think everyone who was there - including Him - must feel the same. He asked that...

No pause from the G-man, though, he's always on the ball. Forget surprise, takes him an instant to recover. Besides, he gets to say the best line ever. "I'M GOD."

What a delivery. I sneaked a peek at Mr Cole. He didn't seem petrified, see, and I wanted to know... well, okay, the dead rarely show much emotion.

Ooops, my mistake. Special case, special case. He's not dead yet. Okay, well, there were no panicky looks, no involuntary shivering - he was smiling.

What do you mean, "huh?" Oh, I get it. Yeah, my reaction too. Smiling? I thought. Smiling my ass. I bet he's just having a seizure or something. But - nope, nothing. It started a smile, and spread into a full-blown grin.

"Oh, good. So, did it bloody well work or not?"

I swear, I am going to quit this job. Too many shocks, and that one was the topper. I nearly had a heart attack.

And what happened from it all? Just more amusement from the Almighty. "I HAVEN'T DECIDED YET."

Okay, mate, it's been swell, but I gotta run. I go on duty in about five minutes. Oh, yeah, the rest. Well, see, I can see ya same time tomorrow, if you want, and get some more down. Just remember to bring extra cassettes. Their conversation was humdinger, and I'd hate for you to forget stuff and get the details wrong.

Yeah, sure, whatever. C'ya tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

You know mate, you're real lucky I'm willing to risk my hide like this... if anyone ever finds out... No, he's not going to suppress the freedom of the press! Christ, you people are really hung up on that! What about protecting the privacy of the individual? And that Cole guy really needs some privacy...

Yeah, so why am I talking to you again? 'Cause I don't him to be known as the second Morning Star, is what. Pass me a ciggy.

Now, where was I? Oh yeah. The boss man just told Cole that, "I HAVEN'T DECIDED YET."

Well, Cole didn't take that well. He just thought it over, real calm-like, his eyes closed again. I was beginning to wonder if he did all his thinking with his eyes closed - he'd have to have been walking into things all the time - and then he sorta wavered. You know, in that instant before you see a tree fall over, there's this stillness, and then it topples? He did exactly that. It wasn't anything like a tree, I have to say, because he was so bloody skinny, but he fell nonetheless. Fainted dead away.

So, there I am, supposed to be writing all this down but instead fetching him a chair and sitting him up and slapping his face to bring him around. Amazing I didn't wring his neck on the spot. It would have been so easy as well, he was half-dead on me. Well, that was the unusual bit. Usually, they are all dead on me. This one was still breathing. Flippin' amazing.

So, anyway, he comes around, and we're force-feeding him water and everything, and he's waving us all away and staggering to his feet again, watchin' the Almighty watch him. "Sorry," he said again, his voice gentle-like, but his eyes... man, if you'd seen his eyes, you would have cried. Green as anything they were then, and you could see that it was anger that made them like that.

And that's bad news. One thing you do not do, no matter who you are, is get angry at the Almighty. That's not just dogmatic law, it's common sense. Would you want Him to get angry with you?

So, anyways, I was trying to keep Cole down on the chair, trying to cool him off, but he brushed me away like I didn't weight anything, and faced the boss man.

"I'm sorry for that," he said again, slowly, running a hand through his hair. It's thick enough for me to see that it would have been real pretty when he had been at his full strength, all shiny and full and - what's that word? Lustre? Yeah, his hair would have had that. Now, though, it looks as tired as him. His eyes are the only thing alive about him. But it's enough. "I'm sorry."

And he stopped. And he didn't say anything for a long while, just looking up at the light again. Then, "I loved her, you know," he said, very, very softly. I almost didn't hear him, and I was standing right next to him, ready to catch him if he fell again. Oh, Jesus, the image there, man, the image! Catch him if he fell.

And I know the Almighty sees it too, and I'll be damned if He isn't a little touched and a lot amused by it. "I KNOW," He told Cole gently, like a father would a son. And Cole smiled then, and said nothing for a long while.

And - okay, I was curious. I know that we're not supposed to do stuff like this, and we get our wings clipped if we do it often enough, but... damnit, I was so curious. So, I sorta went into his mind, very very gently, just to see what he was thinking. Hell, if he was going to be as tight-lipped as this, I wasn't going to get any of the inside info, you get me?

It wasn't like reading his mind or any such stuff like that. I think that's just sick, anyways. I hear that they got them telepath people down there now that can do that to you - well, bring them up here, and I'll show them what for! I'll rip them in two! I'll -

Yes, okay, okay, I'll carry on, sheesh. Yeah, so I'm trying to basically see in what direction Cole's gonna take this, all the time wetting myself in case the big G hears me and clips me then and there. And what do I get from Cole? Nothing. Nothing. Nyet. Nada. The man's a fucking black hole.

Or a mirror. Whichever way you want to call it. There's a woman in his thoughts, of course, I bet she's still there now, I reckon. Same thick dark hair as him, same set in the jaw line - stubborn as hell, I could tell that straight off. Except that there's this thing around her neck, and you can hardly see her hair anymore, because the thing around her neck is hiding it. And what you can see isn't her hair. At least Cole didn't think so.

Horrible, the way we have to remember people, isn't it? At their complete worst. This woman - his ladyfriend, I should imagine - well, any ninny could see that she was hanging on by a thread. Barely there. Her eyes are like his as well, although I doubt he realised this. I doubt any of those fools down there could see it, frankly. Well, they'd say, they were a different colour, weren't they? Yeah, like that makes any difference. The skin around her eyes was so tight, you see, tight like his skin, and you can tell she's in pain because of it. And then she wants to cry but won't let herself do it, and her eyes get this sort of hazel glow, just like his. Weird to watch, I tell you.

So that's all I got from Cole. Just a picture of this woman, right on the surface. Below that - black hole. There was nothing there. The man was a cipher. Scary as fuck, I tell you, I nearly wet myself.

And the Almighty stayed real silent all through this, just waiting to see what Cole will say next. You know, He knew Cole backwards. He can read minds, Hell, He can read souls! You know why He doesn't like to? Because souls lie. There you have it. Souls, with their pure and best intentions, lie. Because we all feel so guilty for something we did in our lives that if He judged by that, down below would be packed like sardines. And the ones that don't feel any guilt are off their rocker, and need special consideration. Takes forever to decide with them, as well.

Anyway, back to Cole - again. Sorry, I know I keep wandering off, but, see, you gotta understand a few things about the admin that goes on around here if you're to understand why a conditional discharge is so unthinkable. I mean -

What? Oh, fine. Have it your way. If you think you know, then you undoubtedly do. Far be it for me, millennia older, to try and educate you.

Anyway. Cole was thinking about all this a great deal, as you can imagine. I couldn't hear any of what was going on, and, frankly, I didn't really want to know. You ever looked in a black hole? Thought not. I wouldn't recommend it. It's bloody gorgeous. Gorgeous. You want to drown in it until there's nothing left of you. And that's what Cole felt like inside - this complete emptiness you wanted to drown in.

And he could feel it, too. I could feel it, and I could feel him trying to change it all inside him, to try and get the woman to fill the nothingness there, but, of course, memories don't work. It's not real, it's not tangible, and that's why was Cole here.

To try and make it real. "I still love her," he said after that mighty long pause. He was squinting up into the light again. "Please."

"PLEASE WHAT?"

Okay, so he doesn't hand-feed anyone anything either. No helping hands, here. You want something, you come out and ask Him.

I knew what Cole wanted. He was here to plead for her life. To save her. His faith must be so strong, I thought, to try that. But, sometimes it happens, you know. Sometimes a loved one is saved by a heartfelt appeal. See, prayers do work. It just takes some time for the paperwork to be filed.

"Please take me instead."

Okay, so I'm wrong again. Well colour me pink and call me Nancy. I should have seen that one coming, really, shouldn't I? I mean, he wanted to fill that void with her... and the only way he could would be for her to be alive, and for the void to get small enough to be filled. Wouldn't work if he was alive. Well, it might, but it was obvious he didn't want to risk that. Feels himself to be worthless, so he's offering his life for his love.

Commendable.

Pity it doesn't quite work like that.

And the boss man knows He's going to have to shatter hopes, and it breaks Him up, it really does. "INSTEAD? WHAT MAKES YOU THINK I'M NOT GOING TO TAKE YOU - AS WELL?"

And that stopped Cole in his tracks. More thinking. The weird part is, the nothingness all the way down there sorta woke up at this. Difficult to label emotions, but if I'd have to judge, I'd say he was feeling pride.

Pride?

That still sorta puzzles me, so I'm not surprised you're so shocked. Yeah, pride. D'you know how much a life is worth? More than a million lives. Difficult to explain if you haven't got the equations, but there's this simple one kicking around down there - you know, where one ends up equalling two? Yeah, that's the one. Try that on a global - or even a galactic - scale. All those ones, worth as much as the rest put together. Don't you think that would give you a sense of pride, knowing you had that? That you were more important than the rest of the universe put together? Of course, it also works the other way, but no one bothers to remember that...

So, when I felt that pride in our Mr Cole, I was a little surprised. I hadn't expected him to, well, you know, realise that. And he seemed too modest - too guilt-ridden - to go in for that self-worship. Well, it wasn't that. Not really. There was something there - something a little deeper than I could go. I'd have to sweat it out with the rest of the to see what would happen.

And he knew it, too. Freaked me out, but he turned to me, and gave me this smug little smile. It just said, 'I know'. And that nearly sent me running. He knew I was there, trying to read him, and he knew I couldn't find anything but mirrors, and he knew how much it freaked me out. And it didn't bother him in the slightest.

You'd think if you were facing the big G you'd be scared, wouldn't you? Not this one. Stood right up, shoulders squared, and smiled up at Him. "You won't take me as well, because it would disrupt the balance," he said.

And that was when, so Dmitri tells me, my face went this sort of puce colour, and I fell flat on my back, back-pedalling, trying to get as far away from the bloody stupid idiot as I could. Not only was God going to smite him, he might smite his entire bloody planet for that! What did he think he was? One of us? Even we would never dare say anything like that!

And so, there I am, fear written all over me, and the Almighty isn't doing anything, just waiting again. Did I ever tell you how screwed up the system is? One minute it's, 'Smite all those speaking against me!', and the next minute we're having theological discussions. And that's what this was.

And God was allowing it.

I'm gonna quit this job. I'm already a chain smoker; next step, crack.

"WHAT MAKES YOU THINK THERE'S A BALANCE?" That's a good point, actually. We're all assuming that there's a balance - good vs. evil, light vs. dark. Which is a nice system, assuming it works.

Then again, the alternative is anarchy, death, destruction and endless daytime television, so let's not go there.

And I think Cole gets that. It was then that he first struck me as kinda familiar. I mean, not like I'd seen him before - if I had, he'd be dead, and, I mean, there was only one dead guy walking around, and that was just with special dispensation. No - maybe I'd had to file away a relative or two of his? It would have had to be a special or unusual case, because, frankly, those that flood through here are quickly forgotten once they're filed. Sorry, it's hurtful, but if it's a simple cut and dry case, you either go up or down. Occasionally, we get a dead guy pleading for their mortally wounded lover/relative/turtle, you pick. And then we get a little divine favour, 'cause the boss man has a thing for lost causes.

Must be why He was still talking to this Cole guy.

"There might not be. But I think there is. And since this is all about me, it's what I believe in that counts, isn't that right?"

We gotta exterminate the Minbari. I swear. There you are, building a nice little religion, and they go and rationalise it. The power of the mind. The universe alive. Phooey. And this one has been taking lessons. Pure luck he's essentially right. Well, not nearly, you get me, but if you tried to simplify it down beyond maths... remember that equation thing with the lives? That's the one. It's all about the individual.

This is why I'm not God. I'm crap at maths.

So the Almighty's thinking this over. Now, he could simply bellow 'infidel!' and throw him down, but it's not His style.

"YOU SEEM VERY SURE OF YOURSELF. HOW CAN YOU BE SURE THIS ISN'T ABOUT SUSAN IVANOVA?"

"Because I've been here before," Cole says, and I choke on my tongue.

Okay, mate, much as I'd love to continue this, I gotta buzz. Places to go, people to smite. C'ya tomorrow.


	3. Chapter 3

Am I gonna get paid for this? No? Good. 'Cause then I can plead stuff like a debt to the truth etcetera etcetera. Doesn't work if your back pocket's stuffed full of credits. Anyway. Back to the sodding story.

You remember I told you Cole had looked familiar? Well, that's because I had filed away a relative of his, only I had to go look it up to make sure. At the time, I was just shit scared and completely out of it. Anyway, it turns out that there was this whole thing with the Shadows again - oh, yeah, the Shadows. Um, never mind them. They've buggered away, anyway. Not much point in going on and on about them. Anyhow, the Shadows did this outpost place a few years back, just about the time they got back, and, naturally, it caused a huge mess. I mean, it wasn't authorised! No paperwork was filed! It was a mess! I had nearly a thousand people to process, and one of them was a bloke called William Cole.

Yeah, that's how I looked when I dug up the file. Brother of our man, I realised halfway through. Begged the boss man to save his kid brother, saying that he was blessed, that he was needed... Nonsense, all of it, of course, but kinda sweet that he'd try when there was no hope.

So, anyhow, I didn't know all this when Cole says his "Because I've been here before" bit. I figured that he'd snuck in, or, worse, snuck out. Now, that kind of thing doesn't happen. Not that it's not allowed to happen - just that it doesn't. There's not even a law written against it, because it's so impossible.

So, of course, everyone imagines that someone has, on the slightest suspicion. It doesn't even have to be grounded in anything. I mean, take Cole, for example. A nice enough bloke, really, kinda annoying when he perks up - and yes, there were perky bits in there while I was rummaging around; oh, God, were there perky bits... Yeah, so, he's nice enough. Maybe a bit on the self-sacrificial side, you know, feeling guilt for living when others have died, yadda yadda yadda.

Sorry, I don't mean to sound bored or insensitive, it's just that - well, here it's all old hat. You want ten thousand Narn tortured to death with one little girl as a survivor? You got it. You want refugees, murderers, modern-day holocaust survivors? We got them all. Everyone goes through here, sooner or later. I've seen them all, and if I cried for them all I'd be curled up in a ball somewhere, completely insensible. No. You gotta put some boundaries up.

Which is why it freaked me out that this Cole guy got through them all so quickly. He made you scared. It wasn't that he was scary - far from it. Like I said, pleasant bloke, nice circle of friends, would make someone the ideal husband. But - you looked into that intensity, and it frightened you. Not because he wanted to die. Because he wanted to live.

I bet you were expecting the opposite, huh? That he had a death wish? That's what I thought, at first. No, you look at him a few times, and you see it. His body's dead - or nearly dead, depending on how fast they get to him. It's his eyes that are the only alive parts of him, and he's willing to trade that for this woman's life -

I'd been thinking all of this as I scrambled away from him, and then it hit me, and I stopped dead in my tracks. He was looking down at me, making eye contact again, and that clinched it for me. I knew what the ace up his sleeve was.

What?

No, I'm not going to tell you! What, d'you think I'm stupid or something! If I tell you now, you'll go do something else. No, that's the punch line. You have to wait for that one.

What do you mean, how long? As long as it takes! Now quit interrupting me so I can get the damn story out!

Ah. Anyway. I was freaked out, Cole's looking at me with that little smirk on his face that means he knows he's got one up on us, and the Almighty was smiling as well, smiling because He knows where Cole is coming from and where this will all lead. Must be handy to know the outcome before the game starts.

"WHY WOULD THIS MAKE ANY DIFFERENCE?"

"You can't take us both, you know. You made that rule. William told me, before he left. I knew." This is me being completely confused.

I'm not surprised you're so out of it! Think how I felt? Does it help to know that William is Cole's brother? No? Forget it.

"MAYBE I CHANGED MY MIND."

"I bloody well hope not!"

And then God Himself started to laugh. It's a funny thing - well, funny, but not in a ha-ha but an oh dear, how curious kind of way - when a deity laughs. It's like light shaking and getting brighter. And the voice starts off like thunder, but gets softer and softer until it's a wave...

Have you ever seen Aurora borealis? That's God laughing until he cries. Beautiful, don't you think? Think of it, up close, with this little mortal man standing in front of Him, trying not to be incinerated by the sheer brightness.

"YOU SEEM VERY SURE OF YOURSELF, MARCUS. WILLIAM TAUGHT YOU WELL."

"He tried," Cole said, in a voice a little above a whisper. I'd only just clicked that William must be the brother, remember. I was desperately trying to recall the details of it all - all the little bits and pieces of the case, all the little peculiarities.

I was also trying to stand up, without much success.

"He told me a lot of things I didn't listen to until it was too late. But - a few things I learned from him in time." And then his face was shining like the light that came from Him. It may have been the reflection - he was all mirrors, remember? But I can't be sure. I've never gone all the way through a black hole. Who knows, maybe it's a well of light at the bottom. "I learned how to save her."

And there was pride at that too, and why not? Pride in such an accomplishment... hell, I'd have tacked up a notice to the local church door! I figured out who the girl was ages ago, by the way. The Susan Ivanova person? Well, I'd made it to my desk by this point and was rifling through the 'pending' file. Yep, there she was. Broken neck. She'd been in here a while ago, actually, and I'd thought it had been a cut and dry case like the others, see, but then Dmitri had run in and dragged her off to a waiting room because there was some sort of commotion outside... a challenger had appeared.

Naturally, I'd assumed the Morning Star and rushed outside, armed to the nines, and there was nothing there but the bloody queue. So, get back inside, read the paper and get clued up in time to meet and greet our Mr Cole here.

You know, I never wanted to be a public servant. Too much stress. Didn't look like Cole had any stress to worry about, though. Either that, or he'd dropped off the mortal coil during the proceedings. That was more likely than not, to be frank. Hell, he looked like a ghost already.

So, anyway, back to the Almighty looking amused and talking more and more dogma. "YOU THINK YOU CAN SAVE HER BY EXCHANGING YOUR LIFE FOR HERS?" I fought the urge to shout 'duh!'. God isn't normally this dense. He had to have an angle...

Of course He had. He looked at Cole again - or, I assume He looked because it was all a great big light thing to me - and He thought about this. Cole said nothing. "I DON'T THINK YOU LOVE HER ENOUGH. NOT AS MUCH AS YOU PURPORT."

Well, if anyone can get away with calling true love a lie, it has to be Him. Cole looked like he was trying to keep his temper. Wise move. You do not lose your temper in the Divine Presence. "I love her," he said again, a little desperately. His eyes weren't quite as bright as they were before. He's fading, I realised suddenly, and it scared me a bit. I'd kind of thought that maybe he wouldn't...

But, of course, he had been mortal. Now he was an ex-mortal and looking mighty pasty to prove it. His eyes weren't exactly bloodshot, and his skin wasn't exactly clammy, but... you know how you always imagine ghosts to be? Sort of real-ish, but push hard enough and your hand will go straight through them? Yeah, exactly like that. It's freaky, I tell you, and I've been working here as long as I can remember.

"I do love her," he said again. It sounded like he was trying to convince himself. I'd still left a little bit of myself in him, even in all my fear, and while surreptitiously rifling through the files of one William Cole, dead five-odd years, I was also trying to have a look-see at exactly what he was thinking.

He did love her, this much I can tell you. But it wasn't a proper kind of love, see... Ah, who am I to judge on what's proper and what's not. But, when you love someone, you want them to love you back, right? Not so for Mr Cole, here. The last thing he wanted was for this Susan to love him. It would have made him run away so fast...

What do you mean that doesn't make any sense? What, you expect the heart to make sense to you? Dear oh dear, you really are new at this, aren't you? I got William's file out, and was having a look at God's little side-notes on the judgements and whatnot. Basically, it seems our dear William made a pre-emptive strike against the Grim Reaper - he was dying, but wasn't quite dead. He would have been, but that's not the point. I guess we were having a slow day when this attack thing happened, and we just went into automatic, filing them out, one after the other. William was amongst the first, and he wasn't even dead yet. We stuck him in a waiting room to see if he'd leave or stay, but he wasn't having any of it. He wanted to see God, he wanted to see God, went on and on about it.

Fine. Just to shut him up, we told him that he couldn't if he wanted to have a chance at survival. Basically, once he went in for judgement, he wasn't coming out alive. He agreed, and rushed through the damn doors before we even had a chance to tell him he needed to die first!

I mean, honestly. There's protocol to be followed, here! Hardly anyone gets to walk in alive, and, well, it's a bit uncouth to do so. I mean, everyone around you is dead, see, so it's a bit like rubbing it in their face. Plus, it's like you're choosing death, which I really don't want to discuss since it's all a bit morbid in my opinion.

Yeah, anyway. So, William gets a chance to see the Almighty, and then follows the usual plea-bargaining. William wants his baby brother to live, and God is all for it, seeing as Marcus isn't all that hurt, he's not even on a waiting list. Well, that doesn't satisfy William. He's convinced the Shadows will destroy the base completely - which they do, by the way. He doesn't want God to spare Marcus' life - he wants him to hold William's life as insurance. Sort of like the cat with nine lives, only Marcus will have two.

Have you ever heard a more ridiculous thing in your life? Well, that was it. God's laughing helplessly, and William's desperately trying to think of a way to protect his baby bro from the big bad Shadows.

And so - you're never going to believe this - they reached a compromise.

A bloody compromise. What kind of deity reaches a compromise! If you ask me, he's gone soft since the whole Shadow thing. Went all gaga on the younger races, wanted to coddle them. Never coddled them before - one wrong move, and whomph! A great big flood to cleanse the earth. No, now he's negotiating!

Yeah, yeah, I'll tell you, Jesus H Christ! Of course this has relevance on the Cole case! You think just anyone can pull this sorta thing off? Nope. It's not even up to the relevance of the person, really. It's not about specialness, or blessedness.

It's about luck.

And administrative screw-ups.

Shit! That's my supervisor. I gotta run. I'll tell you the rest tomorrow, okay?


	4. Chapter 4

Okay, where was I again? Yeah, I'm nearly at the end, sheesh, you people have no patience. Right, then. We were talking about administrative screw-ups. Right. Well, see, God and this William Cole reached a compromise - rather unusual, but not impossible. I recall a couple of years ago something like that happening with that dead bloke walking around, whassisface, Sheridan. Yeah, him. So, anyways, Cole - William - is trying to figure out a way to protect his kid brother.

Now, I gotta take a little side track again, or you're not gonna get the next bit. Right, you know when a person is dying? Well, not personally, obviously, but - in theory, at least? They die, and their life force drains away slowly. Right? Life signs fade, is that what the doctors call it nowadays? They try and stop it, of course, and if there's enough of the life-force left there, they can bring the person back. Now, this life-force thing doesn't stay at the same level through a person's life - no, I don't know the details! Jeez, what do I look like to you, the Second Coming? I don't know all about this stuff!

Anyway, basically, some people are more alive at some times than others. Think of it like a glass of water - sometimes the water is spilled, and sometimes you can fill it up again. Okay, make sense? Right.

Now.

What do you think happens to all that water when you die?

Oh, that's right, it miraculously disappears, or gets transferred, or something. How? All in one go? What kind of sense does maths like that make? None, I tell you, none! It's a graph - and it can get into the negative side of it as well.

Yes, this has bloody relevance! Stick with me for a one bloody minute, okay!

Right. Now, you remember how this Marcus Cole got all this mess started in the first place? That bloody life-transferal machine.

Let me tell you something right now - I have never, in all my years here, come across such blatant plagiarism! Never! Ever! Not even when fire was 'discovered'. Never! Those Vorlons are so lucky they're practically immortal, since when they get their butts over here, there's gonna be some serious judging from the big G!

So, yeah, Cole used the machine to try and save the life of this Susan Ivanova woman. So, basically, he transferred his life to hers. Ordinarily, this won't get you squat if she's already dead - which she was - because there is no way you can bring the dead back. They're gone. Processed. Filed away. Caput.

So why the big commotion? She's dead, he transfers his life to nothingness and dies, right?

Like I said, administrative screw-ups. I mean, give us a break, how many people do you think we process through here every day? About a million, give or take a few thousand. There's always a backlog. Always. Even with the Almighty being omniscient and omnipresent and everything, it's a hell of a workload.

So, naturally, mistakes occur.

What kind of mistakes... um, what kind of mistakes indeed. Um, see, when William Cole compromised with God to try and save Marcus, what they decided to do was transfer all of William's remaining life-energy to Marcus. Make sense? Marcus is perfectly healthy. You transfer what little is left of William before he finally gives it up and goes off either up or down (bear in mind that William is dead, right), and voila, you have Marcus at extra-special spunkiness. He'll be strong enough to survive the Shadow attack and go off to have his brood of six kids and whatnot. It's uncommon, but not unheard of.

And what happened next is that I screwed up. Royally.

Blame it on what you like - cigarettes, lack of alcohol, lack of caffeine - I managed to process William Cole a little too early for his own good. In fact, I managed to process him while he was still alive.

Yeah, big oops.

So, instead of just being extra-strong and resilient, our Marcus ended up having, um, sorta... two lives.

Stop laughing! It's not funny! It may seem like a good thing to have, and yeah, sure, you end up being a hell of a lot healthier than everyone else, but what happens when you pull a royal stunt like that life-transferral thing? Normally, if you die, you just, well, die - so he would have lived a little longer than most people, and been a little healthier for longer. So what. No biggie.

Trust the bugger to pull something so bloody stupid...

What do you mean, you don't get it? How thick are you? Do I have to spell it out! When Marcus transferred his life Ivanova, he didn't transfer a normal human life - he transferred two lives.

So! What the bloody hell do you mean, so! Did you follow the maths thing before at all? I thought not! One life outweighs the entire universe in importance, right? So, what do you think you have when you have two bloody lives! Think of the consequences! Think of the cataclysmic consequences of such a paradox!

Um... well, now, I don't know what the consequences will be. But, frankly, I don't want to know! All I knew this meant, was, one of them would have to live. Which is a bit of a problem, since both of them were dead.

Are you following? Once you die, you stay dead. No coming back. Nothing there in that body, see? Your soul goes to either burn or dance or whatever, and your energy is recycled to make another life. And there is no coming back. For anyone.

And so this is why I was shitting myself when I read about this in the paper. Okay, I didn't read all of this in the paper - all it said was, "Arrival of human challenges dogma!" And then it went on about how, because of undisclosed reasons, one of the two would have to live and how this was such a big problem, yadda yadda yadda, and what effects this will have on the economic forecast and the WB line-up in the fall.

So, until I went through God's notes and my little mistake - not a common mistake, I grant you, but it has been known to happen - I didn't know any of this background claptrap. All I knew was, God wasn't going to be very happy to have to let one of them live.

So, anyway, back to the sodding conversation.

Cole had just told God that, "I do love her," right? Well, I had my doubts about that, because there was obviously something extra screwy going on here, and as near as I could figure, it had a lot to do with my messing things up. This is bad, especially come evaluation time. I really didn't want to consider the prospect of a pay-cut!

So, God drew himself up his full height - what? Oh. Um, about an infinite amount of meters, I should think - yeah, so, anyway, he's towering over the universe, and doing his whole judgement thing. "AND WHY SHOULD THIS MATTER? WHY SHOULD I LET HER LIVE INSTEAD OF YOU?"

Which, okay, is a hell of a good question. Because, much as you love one person, giving your life to them - not just sacrificing yours for theirs, but giving your life to them is a hell of an undertaking. Not many managed it.

And they hadn't even screwed yet!

Oh, didn't I mention that? Well, you'll never believe it... our Mr Cole, right - thirty five year old virgin! I know! I know! That's just what I thought! I figured the Almighty had had some grudge against him, but, no, apparently He wasn't too concerned with people getting laid. So, it must have been Cole's decision.

Never let it be said that I don't bring you the latest gossip on the top stars!

Anyway. I better get a move on with this, since this is seriously dragging into my lunch-hours. So, we up to speed on stuff? The maths, the implications, yadda yadda yadda? Right, good.

"You have to. She's - she's everything."

Pathetic, isn't it? Even I was fighting the urge to be sick when he said that. Then I realised what he was talking about, and I'll be damned if I didn't feel like weeping instead. She wasn't everything to him, she was everything, period.

It wasn't adoration, or even idolatry at work here - just some serious head-casing. Cole's whole bloody universe, after William's death, was in disarray. And when he met Ivanova, he rebuilt his world around her. Rare, but it happens. Romeo and Juliet? A dramatisation of a rather horrible and torrid love-affair. It was luck they killed themselves, because neither could have lasted a day without the other there. Sad, extremely pathetic, but true. I think it's a genuine design flaw in these mortals - but, then, they're all working prototypes, so when we find a nice perfect one, we'll use that one instead. No luck so far.

Hey, don't sound so offended! It's the simple truth! You're all flawed, and, hell, so are we! This Ivanova character - stubborn, thick-headed, too angry for her own good. Then we have the two Coles - both self-sacrificial to a fault. I guess the Ranger training brings that out of someone.

So, anyway, God's thinking Cole's little pathetic statement over, when I decide to shove my foot even further into my mouth.

"Why don't we just - turn back time? Or do a 'Sheridan' on them?"

Okay, bad idea to counsel the Almighty. He doesn't like it. "NO." He said shortly, and that was that.

Why? I don't know! All I know is, for the Sheridan bloke, there was some serious negotiation going on behind closed doors. Maybe it was impossible. Maybe God didn't feel like all the extra work again. You know, you do all your work, you build yourself a universe with workable laws of physics and whatnot - you can't just go about screwing around with it willy-nilly. It takes all the permanency out of it, and that, my friend, is way into the realm of the bad.

Where was I? Yes. God was still thinking. Takes a long time.

Finally, he said, "APART FROM IVANOVA MATTERING TO YOU - WHY SHOULD I GIVE HER BACK HER LIFE, AND NOT YOU? I COULD REVERSE THE PROCESS AND STOP YOU DYING. YOU COULD DO A LOT OF GOOD, MARCUS."

"Yeah," he said bitterly, and I saw him fade with each word. "I can kill some more people."

More guilt from him.

He's scratching the inside of his right wrist, where he's got that little bruise from the machine. I could practically see him go all hard and opaque and thick like curdled milk. Even his eyes had faded to these small devil's fires. Okay, that's a bit of a no-brainer, really. A devil's fire? Small, compact, but very hot. His eyes were - dimmed, but glowing? I can't explain it. It just looks really freaky.

And God's waiting for him to continue. He wants to truth, and he wants it in the form of a confession. I'm not sure if He likes Confession, but he likes confessions. Does that make sense? Anyway, it's besides the point.

Cole thinks some more, and the finally looked up again. I swear, he was practically glaring. "Why did You put me back?" He asked, and his voice had that weird little catch in it, where you know they're trying to cry, but they can't because they have no bodies. It's really pitiful to watch. "Why did You put me back when You knew that more people would die because of me?"

"YOU WERE NOT TO BLAME, MARCUS," the Almighty said gently. He loves them all, you know, especially the self-torturing ones. He feels a kinship with them, I guess - you know, the Son part of it? All that suffering...

"It was all me," Cole said, and again, there's that catch in his voice. His eyes are growing dimmer and - more green? More vibrant? I can't describe it. The eyes themselves were dim, but the pupils seemed to be dancing...

Forget it, it's impossible to explain.

"It was all me - I know I didn't kill them, but it - it feels that way..." And he trailed off, and his eyes were opening real wide, like a child's, looking up into the light. "Was it my fault? Is it my fault they're all dead?"

I don't have wonder who he's asking about. All his family, it says on the records, are gone. Dead. Filed away. And he was somehow connected to each death - from his mother dying in childbirth, to an argument with his father that led Cole Senior to take a shuttle that never landed - to a visit from his brother that William didn't survive. Cole wasn't to blame for any of those, but you try explaining that.

Damn the Minbari. They hammered it into his skull that everyone is interconnected - which is well and good, but not if you're walking a tightrope! He feels all the more responsible for his family's deaths because of his lack of blame!

No, I'm not going to sit and explain to you how that works. Go ask a psychologist. All I know is, Cole was looking up at God like a man with a death wish looks at his executioner - except that it was the exact opposite. Cole wanted to live for his family, that much is obvious, but he didn't want to live with all his guilt and those bloody eyes. Next best thing? Ivanova. Live through her, by saving her life.

I never said that the human mind made sense.

"WOULD YOU BELIEVE ME IF I SAID YOU WERE BLAMELESS? THAT YOU WERE NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR ANY OF IT? IT WAS MEANT TO BE - AS SUSAN IVANOVA'S DEATH IS, MARCUS."

"No," he whispered again, defiantly. "No, I don't - I can't - believe that!" And he was glaring then, glaring at God with such anger, I really was afraid for him. He reminded me of the Morning Star so much at that moment, it was uncanny...

"You're the God of compassion! Of love! Of life! Of bloody justice! And if you felt any of those things, you'd let me die to save her! You'd let me do something good with the worthless bloody life that my brother died to preserve! That billions have died to preserve! My life is more important than the rest of the universe put together? What about her life? Isn't she entitled to that same treatment!" He was shouting. Bloody shouting at God, his hair a mess and his eyes like hot coals in his face, and his mouth twisted into a snarl. "If you cared about us at all, you'd let her live because through her I can live as well!"

Impressive, huh? I thought so. His face would have gone purple if he'd been alive. Seeing as he was dead, though, he was already kinda purple.

And you know what the scary part is? I understood him. Fuck it, I actually understood where he coming from!

Which, seeing as I'm not meant to empathise with anything, was kinda bad, but also felt great. I understood what he was talking about - which meant that God, being all-knowing and all-forgiving - would understand as well.

True love - or true dependency. Either way, a soft spot for this particular deity.

And He was considering it, you could see it written all over the light. It was like ripples through it. He was seriously thinking about what Cole had said - shouted - into his ear. Bloody amazing. And beautiful to watch. I could feel the change in it all, in the lack of floor below me. It's like - it became fluid, you know? Fluid to be shaped into a new concept, a new idea - possibly a new universe with new rules.

It's not often this happens. Not often at all. Remember the sudden change in the 'smite thy neighbour' into 'love thy brother'? Big change. Big. Huge. And bloody gorgeous to watch as the ripples went through reality and changed it all.

And here it was, about to happen again - one way or the other. Whatever God decided, His decision would mean a change. My breath caught as He brought the hammer down, a signal that He was about to speak the judgement.

And - that judgement will have to wait because, unless my watch is fucked up, I'm ten minutes late for work! Shit!


	5. Chapter 5

Ah, are you back for the end of it? Well, let's get it all down before I forget the blasted thing. Just the judgement bit itself, left, isn't that right? Okay.

You know, I think I'm going to get hit when I actually tell you what God said. No, nothing cliched or anything, just - He tries to give happy endings, you know? But it doesn't always work. Some people are not meant to stay together. And some people - well. Those two kids, Cole and Ivanova - they never even got together. Kinda sad in a way, but that's the way things are.

And, trust me, you do not want them to be any different! Ever thought about what it would be like if we all had fantastic love-lives? Mass suicide.

Don't give me that look! I'm serious! You think God built mortals to have perfect lives? They'll go insane. Potty. Around the bend. Off the proverbial cliff, no coming back, no second brick. Ah, angst. The stuff of good interaction.

Okay, okay, enough! I'm getting to it! Right. God brought the hammer down for His final judgement. And, let me tell you, it wasn't pretty. "SUSAN IVANOVA SHALL LIVE, AS YOU WISH IT SO MUCH."

Ouch.

What?

Oh. Well, um, see - it wasn't the nice decision. I can't judge on whether it was the right decision, but it wasn't nice. I don't know what nice would have been, to tell you the truth. But - anyway.

And - the Cole character doesn't seem as relieved, somehow, as I had thought he would. In fact, he seems to be fading even more. His hands are slowly growing paler and paler and more like liquid marble by the second. Even his face - it's like, it's melting, but in reverse. I tell you, watching that - it's horrible. It doesn't hurt, they tell me, but I bet you that's only because they're already dead.

Well, at least one thing's certain. Cole's gonna be filed away with everyone else -

And that was when they brought Ivanova out. She'd been waiting in a room nearby, see, and they brought her out to put her back. And they had to do it quick - I could feel the fabric underneath me ripple with repressed eagerness. It wanted to change. It needed to change - God had so decreed it. It was dogma. The dead can be brought back.

And so, they grabbed her and brought her out, no time for finesse. She looked horrible. I am telling you, she was a walking skeleton. Bones sticking out everywhere, eyes sunk into the sockets so far you can barely see a spark left in them, mouth - well, let's just say that it had used to be round and full and rather pretty, if I'm any judge of these things. When I looked at her mouth, there was a considerably large part of me that wanted to retch.

Have you heard of the nosferatu? No, not the modern vampires you seem so enamoured with - pansywaisted sycophantic creatures if I ever saw them. I mean nosfetaru - the original ones? Their gums have retracted so much that their teeth are incredibly prominent, which sprang up the whole vampire cult thing. I've no idea if they were the original bloodsuckers, but they're the ones that were hunted. Their skin was so delicate, it couldn't stand sunlight, blistering at even a few stray rays.

Now, take that image and change it to fit a walking female skeleton. It was monstrous.

The only thing that could have been worse was if her teeth had been pointed, which of course they couldn't since she wasn't a vampire, but if they were, I'm have killed her then and there.

Which, thinking on it, would have been a singularly stupid thing to do if she was a vampire, seeing as she was dead already and would have clipped me like so much paper.

Anyway.

So, there I am, fighting the urge to be sick, and they're half-carrying, half-dragging this remnant of a woman across the judgement floor, and Cole suddenly makes this horrible, wrenching sound. I'd never thought how the sight of her would affect him, see - well, it wasn't really the sight of her, it was the sight of what remained of her life-force. Which wasn't much; she was practically falling to pieces on us.

I turned to him, in what I swear was slow-motion, and his mouth has just fallen open in what must be the classic picture of shock and horror. And he said nothing for all of about two minutes, while the guards carrying Ivanova stopped on a signal from me. She was half-awake, see, and trying to look at him, but not really focusing.

"Susan?" Even his voice had started to curdle. It didn't sound anything like the crisp British voice that had greeted the boss man at the start of the conversation. Actually, this all took place rather quickly, despite my taking forever to explain it. A half-hour by our standards, at most. Maybe a thousandth of a second by mortal standards.

Well, of course we have a longer day! We have more work to do than you do!

Anyway. Cole went this sickly green colour and started to choke again, and that - sweet Jesus, that brought the woman around. "M-M-Marcus?"

It wasn't even a whisper. It was more like a wheeze; someone trying to force sound out of a palette too long unused. It was - what's that ancient word? Yes. It was ghastly.

"Susan, I..." And he stopped again, and looked away, trying to swallow. He couldn't even breathe, seeing as he was dead, so that was impossible. The worst part is them trying to act like they're alive when they're not. They're really not.

"What's 'appening, Ma'cus?" Her speech was slurred, and her eyes were half-closed. I think she was trying to focus - desperately trying to focus on him, on the queue, on anything other than the fact that a few more minutes and she would be decomposing where she sat.

I know, it's a horrible image. But the truth is often horrible. You want me to tell you that she looked beautiful and fresh and ran into his arms? That they embraced and kissed and had a tearful but short-lived reunion until he sent her back to live her life without him? Death is harsh. It doesn't work that way. Like I said, you get to see people at their worst here. You remember them at their worst.

"You're going to live, Susan," Marcus said, trying to sound as if he was sure. "You're going to live because I love you."

It would have been beautiful, I guess, if it wasn't for the fact that we don't get 'happily ever after's here. She looked at him again, and I swear her gaze sharpened. She licked her lips and tried to draw herself up to her full height, despite the guards holding either arm. "Stupid idiot," she said, very softly and very clearly.

Silence at this. Even Cole - maybe especially Cole - didn't say a word. Everyone just watched, wide-eyed. Ivanova yanked her arms away from the guards and stood, very gingerly, on legs that threatened to give way any second. Step by bloody agonising step she made her way closer to Cole, her hands clenched into claws at her sides. Her mouth was twisted in a horribly cruel smile.

No one moved or even breathed - even though we didn't breathe - until she stood eye to eye with Cole. Even then, the smile was still there. It made her look like a vampiress, I tell you, all teeth and - God, her eyes had returned by then, and they weren't glowing, they were just - there. Freaky. Freaky. I've never seen anything like it. Then again, I've never seen anyone that far gone, before.

"Why did you do this? Why are they sending me back?" She asked him, trying to make her unwilling lips form the words. Her eyes were so open, so black, and I stared in them for a long while before I realised that she wasn't blinking. She couldn't blink. There were no eyelids there.

I fought back nausea.

"I - I love you," Cole told her, trying to keep his eyes focused - God knows where. The Almighty himself was watching this silently, not saying anything. He knew that He shouldn't get involved with this - I knew that I didn't want to.

"You love me?" And she laughed.

It was hideous. Cruel and pained and open-mouthed and open-eyed, it was hideous.

"You love me, and so you're sending me back to live like this?" She waved a hand down at herself. Cole swallowed hard and deliberately ran his eyes over her. It wasn't a pretty sight. Her body - once, it had been youthful and beautiful, I suppose - was covered in bruises - or was that decomposition marks? She looked like the corpse of an old woman, with a young woman's eyes glaring out of hollow eye-sockets.

By then, I was quietly being sick over the side of my desk. Cole was shuddering and trying to fight instinct to do the same. "You want to send me back to live like this! And you do this out of love?" She sounded amazed.

Cole swallowed again. "Um - I - I - that's not the physical you... it's just the soul." He shut up at that, immediately, his jaw slack with horror at what he'd just said.

Ivanova laughed harshly, and, I must say, I understood her completely. "And that doesn't matter, does it? As long as I look the same on the outside?" She waved another hand at her face. "Look at me! This is me inside! My eyes can never close, Marcus! Never! I'll see everything I've ever lost! My body - my spirit - is more tired, more angry and more bruised than that of an old woman!" Her voice had risen to a screech. "My soul is dead, and you're sending it back down again? You want me to live like this!"

If she could have slapped him, I think she would have, and Cole knew that. It's a horrible thing to have to acknowledge - that what you thought to give in gift turns out to be a curse. "I just - I just wanted to you to live." He said finally, very simply, looking away.

She stared at him for a long moment again, her hollow eyes calculating. "I'll live, then," she said at last, slowly walking backwards. Her step was unsteady, and immediately the two guards flanked her to grasp her arms and support her. "I'll live for you, Marcus Cole. Because you need me to." She raised her head to peer down at him, her manner that of a queen. "But I won't forget this."

They took her away, then, and never was I gladder to see anyone leave more than that wretched woman and the cursed life she'd have to live. All for this man - the challenger.

Cole? Yeah, he watched her go. He even said "I love you," very, very softly, just before they closed the gates behind her. I doubt she heard him, though; she was already on her way back down again.

Then, she was gone, and Cole stood there, completely defeated.

He turned back to God after a while, and looked up at Him. He was squinting, like he couldn't see properly. Maybe he never could, but this was the first time he'd acknowledged it. "I didn't mean for it to be this way," he said, just as quietly, his head down.

Have you seen the Morning Star? I don't mean pictures, or drawings, or even mental images. I mean - have you seen him? He's beautiful. That's why he's perfect for the job. And that's -

That's how he looked, when he was cast down. For daring to challenge.

"I KNOW. BUT THIS IS THE WAY IT TURNED OUT. I'M SORRY."

No, God isn't vengeful. He just - sometimes, mortals have to learn on their own that you can't change everything around, you can't mess everything up for everyone else. Not even if you think it's for a pure cause - and what's purer than love?

I think that's enough, now, Daniel. I've given you more than enough for your interview. I think you'd better leave.

What? Cole? Oh, yeah. Well, God never did make a judgement about what would happen to him, did he?

Well, I guess I could... wouldn't harm anyone, seeing as I've told you the rest...

He hasn't decided yet. The paperwork for a possible conditional discharge just came through, actually. So, until further notice, Marcus Cole is in my 'pending' file - with the strong possibility of a conditional discharge.

There. Didn't I tell you He had a heart?

Click. Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Stop the cassette.

Open the door and walk out slowly, trying to have a look around at the same time. The door is closed by him, none too gently, and then the courtyard stretches out in front. There is nothing there but a small desk next to the high gates. Walk towards the desk, and towards the darkly robed man standing there. The gates are opened; turn to leave.

Something's there, nailed in front of the desk. A little plaque.

Pause; stoop down.

"We, the willing,  
led by the All-knowing,  
are doing the impossible  
for the ungrateful. We have done  
so much,  
for so little,  
for so long,  
we are now qualified to do  
anything with nothing."

Walk out and not look back as the gates are swung closed again. Ahead, a dark-haired woman is slowly walking down a spiralling staircase.

"You too, huh?" She asks.

"No. I'm from the Press."

She nods and walks on ahead, head held high.

*

fin


End file.
